


Rhythm Of The Rain Keeps Time

by falloutboyaf



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutboyaf/pseuds/falloutboyaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i dont know what this is but i hope you like it lmfao</p>
    </blockquote>





	Rhythm Of The Rain Keeps Time

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know what this is but i hope you like it lmfao

It was freezing when they met. Mid January, and Patrick was clutching his umbrella in his fist, tightly. The bus seemed to be taking longer than usual today. He anxiously checked his phone. It was 4:15. The road was silent and slick, rain falling on the top of his umbrella, tapping away. The only other person in sight was yards away, face hidden in a hood, hands shoved in pockets, looking down. Patrick sat on the bench by the stop, breathing in the crisp air, and damning it to hell. His fingers started to move along with the rain. He had a drummers mind and rhythm.  
It took five minutes for the person to get to Patrick. He was short, innocent looking, and he was staring down under long eyelashes. Patrick sat quietly as the man settled next to him on the bench, a seat away, still under the pouring rain. The man's grey hoodie wasn't doing much, and was almost soaked. He chattered, refusing to look in Patrick's direction.  
After another five minutes, Patrick nudged him. He had been there, wet and shivering, and Patrick couldn't take it.  
"Hey, um, I'm Patrick." He said nervously.  
"Oh. Pete." The man replied.  
"Pete," Patrick said, looking down. "You cold?"  
Pete laughed. "Yeah, I am."  
"You want to share my umbrella?"  
"God, yes please." Pete said with an appreciative sigh, scooting closer to Patrick eagerly, now protected from the rain. On his leg, Patrick could feel Pete's coldness. And Pete could feel Patrick's heat, even though he too was shaking.   
"You're warm." Pete observed. Patrick let out a dry laugh and adjusted his glasses. His knuckles were white, and despite the cold, he was sweating. All he could do was hope Pete didn't notice. But he did, staring blatantly at Patrick. "You look nervous."  
He laughed awkwardly, yet again. "Yeah, um, sorry."  
"I don't mind," Pete muttered, turning away from Patrick, blush rising on his face. "It's sort of endearing. I mean, you know..."  
"You look pretty nervous yourself." Patrick said. He felt like he was in middle school again, with the way his heart beat, and the way he sheepishly looked in any direction besides Pete. Somehow, he didn't feel insecure about it. Probably since Pete was acting the same.  
"Yeah," Pete agreed. "Hot guys make me nervous."  
Patrick was taken aback, and he bit his lip to keep from smiling. Fuck, they'd jut met and already he was all flustered. It took them another minute of silence, besides the tempo of the rain beating down around them. Patrick nervously drummed his hands again. Pete looked down at them with a small smile, then looked up at Patrick.  
"Okay, sorry, that was a really weird thing to say."  
"No,"  
"No...?"  
"No." Patrick said, more sure this time. "No, no. Thank you..."  
"Oh," He smiled back. "You're welcome."  
Patrick went on, trying to ignore the slight awkwardness of the situation. They made small talk ("So how about this weather?" Pete had said jokingly) and ended up in a conversation about music. Pete had pretty good taste, it turned out.   
"The bus isn't coming." Patrick said after his phone announced it was 5:00, with slight panic in his voice. Beside him, Pete stared with brown eyes, questioning and the slightest bit hopeful. His hair was wet on his face from the rain, and his thin shirt was still drenched under the hoodie, which was unzipped slightly.   
"You're right. I should get going." Pete began to stand up, but Patrick grabbed his sleeve.  
"I know a coffee shop nearby. We'll have a drink, and call a cab." He said. Pete could be a serial killer for all he fucking knew, but guys like this that were into him didn't come often since he was so shy, he figured he could take a chance. "Um, please?"  
Pete looked at him, relieved. "Hell yeah."  
They shuffled up, Patrick awkwardly holding the umbrella over them, as they walked on the dark concrete, both looking down. Suddenly, Pete held his hand out. The two of them stopped, Patrick adjusted his foggy glasses, and took it. He felt Pete squeeze in return, making Patrick's heart flutter. He mentally kicked himself for being so immature about this, but then, Pete didn't seem to mind, so neither did he. There was a little pep in his step as they walked, discussing random things loudly, holding hands with feather light fingers. This was good, he thought to himself. And Patrick wasn't ever more glad to not catch a bus.


End file.
